


For A Moment

by touchinghearts



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Awkwardness, Bad Flirting, Chris Pine as James Harper, Coffeehouse Trope, Fluff, M/M, ooc, slightly cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1203571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchinghearts/pseuds/touchinghearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which John acts like an idiot because there is a cute new barista at his favourite coffeehouse.</p><p>[James Harper is an OMC, or who <strong>Chris Pine</strong> could be as a character in Almost Human.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	For A Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: OOC!John, shameless amount of fluff. Also a weeny bit of Dorian and Valerie.  
> for [johnreapergrimm](johnreapergrimm.tumblr.com), who also provided heart-lifting feedback.

 

John’s favourite coffeehouse is the one across his apartment building. The coffee and food aren’t drool-worthy or anything but it’s the old style shop itself that appeals to him. Airy spaces, sunlight washing in through the windows in sheets of warmth that don’t hurt the eyes, little wooden tables covered with checkered cloths and wide wickerwork chairs anyone of any size can splay in comfortably. He likes the small flowerpots hanging off the hooks high on the walls, the scent that all coffeehouses seem to have, and he likes the clean floors. He enjoys the selection on the reading rack and the ‘Recycle!’ stickers stuck onto every available surface.

 

It’s his morning stop on lazier days and he drops by at least twice a week. It’s a place that embodies peace and that’s something John desperately needs nowadays. The shittiest coffee in the world won’t convince him to go anywhere else.

 

Today happens to start off a slow day. Dorian’s with Rudy going through some kind of upgrade and the Captain’s off on a confidential case. He really doesn’t care where Paul’s gone (but he does know the asshole’s got a case). Valerie, who’s worked overtime the day before judging by the time John receives her text, has already announced that she’ll be coming in after lunch. John himself has nothing pressing to do the entire morning which, barring any new leads or a sudden case, means it’s the perfect time for a little relaxation.

 

He texts Valerie to tease her about skipping and tells Dorian to call him once the upgrade’s done. When he reaches the coffeehouse, he peers in through the front windows to make sure the morning rush hasn’t decided to start early. True to routine, only one person in line, a college kid passed out on one of the sofas, and the usual barista starting the day. Exactly what he needs for a little lounging.

 

Wait, no, rewind. That is _not_ the usual barista.

 

John can’t help but stare. He hasn’t seen someone’s hair gleam like that since he first met Valerie: the sunlight’s making it shine _gold_. And eyes that blue can’t possibly belong to a human, John’s only ever seen Dorian’s that bright. He watches stupidly as the barista rings up the customer’s order.

 

Wow, that’s a ridiculously gorgeous smile.

 

John flinches when the barista looks up and right at him. He’s slightly confused by the quirked eyebrow and then realises he’s been hovering outside this window for a while. John clears his throat, hoping his blush isn’t obvious, and walks in. It takes everything in him not to turn and sprint back out when blue eyes fix on him. He makes his way to the counter, trying not to feel nervous by the curious gaze tracking his approach.

 

Really, it’s been a long time since John’s noticed a man like this and it doesn’t help that the barista becomes increasingly attractive with every inch of distance closing between them.

 

When John finally reaches the counter, the new guy smiles.

 

Holy shit, it’s even more stunning up close.

 

“Good morning,” the barista greets, eyes bright and warm.

 

John opens his mouth but ends up grasping frantically for words and generally looking like an absolute idiot. How the hell do you respond to ‘good morning’?

 

“—Morning!” John manages in the way of someone having an epiphany. He can _feel_ how awkward his smile is. “It’s, uh, a really good morning. Sunshine. Warm air. Blue sky. Really good morning. Right.”

 

He keeps nodding like there’s something wrong with his brain function. Is he blinking? He’s not sure, but he thinks he might be sweating. He taps his fingers on the polished counter, hoping his face isn’t showing the fact that he’s silently bemoaning the spectacle he’s making of himself. The barista’s smile has faded and he’s staring.

 

John holds back a wince. “…hi,” he says lamely.

 

The new guy’s mouth twitches and then the smile returns. Something about it seems different from before and John’s stomach warms up in response.

 

“Hi,” says the barista, and there’s definitely laughter in his voice. “What’d you like?”

 

“What?” says John blankly, before he remembers why he’s here in the first place. He resists the urge to smack himself. “One black coffee. Strong, please.”

 

“Alright, to go?”

 

That hadn’t been the original plan but damned if he’s going to stay after making a fool of himself. “Yeah, thanks.”

 

“Anything else?”

 

“How ‘bout your name?” is what John _wants_ to say, but unfortunately his definition of ‘smooth’ is synonymous with ‘train wreck’.

 

So, instead, he says, “No, just the coffee,” and stares intensely at the countertop.

 

In a matter of minutes, his order slides into view. He looks up and tries not to grimace when he notices how the other man is clearly amused.

 

“You seeing something I don’t?” the barista teases.

 

John’s certain he’s about to have a heart attack. He’s immediately regretful of the times he laughed at the poor saps who lament how hard it is to be cool in front of the person they like. Right now he’s definitely appreciating the rollercoaster of emotions he used to scoff at and is now suffering in.

 

“What?” he says, wide-eyed. “I don’t—I wasn’t seeing. Anything.”

 

The barista looks at him, that eyebrow quirking again. Within a second John realises that he’d meant the counter, not the face John’s been swooning over since he peeked into the coffeehouse.

 

“Oh,” he says, a little relieved. “No, I was just, uh.” He’s tripping over his words like a goddamn teenager. He stops, clears his throat and tries again. “You know. Thinking, is all.”

 

To his horror, he finds that he’s actually _gesturing at his temple_ to signify ‘thinking’ and fuck, why’d he even leave his apartment this morning. He drops his hand and bites into his lip to stop talking.

 

Thankfully, the barista smiles again. “Well, here’s your coffee. Sure you don’t want anything else?”

 

John shakes his head as he fumbles for his phone. He carefully avoids touching the barista when the number pad is offered because he really doesn’t want to know if that pale skin is as supple as it looks. He might end up jumping over the counter and mauling him.

 

“Thanks,” says the barista cheerfully, His smile softens slightly as John picks up his cup.  “Have a nice day,” he adds with a wink.

 

John almost drops the coffee. “You too,” he responds, silently cursing everything in existence. “Uh, bye.”

 

He doesn’t quite run but it’s a close thing.

 

He calls Rudy as he stalks towards his car, briskly informing that he’s coming by earlier than planned. Clearly he’s on speaker because Dorian’s voice quips from a slight distance.

 

“Did something happen?”

 

Alone now, John allows himself to grimace. “No,” he says, “why?”

 

“I’m familiar with nearly all of your moods,” his partner tells him.

 

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

 

“Your aura of surliness is worse than usual, I can feel it over the phone,” says Dorian, matter-of-fact as usual but obviously amused.

 

John says a few rude words and hangs up after promising to be there in ten minutes. He thinks he might be spending too much time with that smartass android.

 

Before he drives off, he spares one last glance at the coffeehouse and resolves to visit again. While it’s true that he made a fool of himself in there, he kind of wants to see that gorgeous smile again. He may be a bad flirt and absolutely useless at asking people out but he’s never been a coward.

**.~'~.**

The new barista is there again when John comes in the next day. It’s a few minutes to noon and there are more people scattered throughout the shop. There are also more employees, those John actually recognises, including the one at the cashier taking orders and another making the drinks. New guy is at the pastry display and John’s incredibly pleased to see him. He can’t say he expected it, considering the time difference from yesterday, but he’s dropping by on the slim chance he’d get to talk to the new barista again.

 

Unfortunately, he’s forgotten to account for the other employees that would obviously be on shift at this hour. How is he going to talk to Blue Eyes now?

 

The subject of his thoughts looks up when John steps inside the coffeehouse. John tries not to look at him too obviously so he’s surprised when Mr. Gorgeous Smile dashes towards the counter and practically shoves his co-worker after the last customer moves away. There’s a hushed but furious exchange of words that makes John slow down his trek towards the pair, unsure of what’s going on. But then those blue eyes met his again.

 

“Hi!” the new barista greets him brightly.

 

Oh, crap, that smile is every bit as beautiful as John remembers, if not more.

 

“Hi,” John returns through a silent litany of ‘be cool, be cool, you’ve practiced this, just be cool’. He offers his own smile. “You’re from yesterday.”

 

The smile becomes brighter. John can’t help but notice that it really is quite different from the very first one he’d seen; this one makes crow’s feet creep into the corner of those striking eyes and it’s a surprisingly boyish look. John finds it oddly charming.

 

“I remember you, too,” says the barista. “You must be a regular.”

 

“I come by once in a while,” John admits. “You’re new, right?”

 

Good, make conversation, ease into it. Baby steps, John, baby steps.

 

“Yeah, this is my second week.” Blue Eyes tilts his head and taps at a nametag John hasn’t noticed. “I’m James.”

 

A name!

 

John swallows. This is going better than he could’ve dared to hope.

 

“John,” he offers.

 

“At your service, John,” says James, grinning. “What can I get you?”

 

John is mesmerised by how golden he looks standing in the light. James raises his eyebrows when no answer is forthcoming.

 

“John?” he says hesitantly.

 

John startles out of his reverie. “Right, sorry. One black coffee and one vanilla frappe with, uh, sprinkles. To go, please.”

 

James hands off the order and purses his lips as he rings it up. “The frappe for your girlfriend?” he asks casually.

 

For some reason he looks a bit dissatisfied. John’s heart speeds just a little bit.

 

“Girlfriend? No, she’s my co-worker. She’s waiting in the car for me.” He debates his next words, unsure if he’s making James’ reaction out for more than it is, and decides to wing it. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Single as all hell, actually.”

 

James looks up at him through golden eyelashes. John almost drops his phone.

 

“All hell, huh?” says James with a hum of amusement. “Does that mean you’re looking?”

 

That’s definitely a flirting tone. John almost can’t believe it.

 

“Well, that depends,” he says honestly. “I think I’ve found someone but I don’t know how to ask him out.”

 

“That’s easy. Get his number and call him up for lunch or dinner, anything you’d normally do on a date.” James turns the holoscreen number pad towards John with a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “Handsome guy like you, no one in their right mind would say no.”

 

“Even if I made a total idiot of myself the first time I saw him?” John asks, deliberately brushing their fingers together when he reaches to verify his account. It takes everything in him not to blush.

 

James’ smile becomes a little shy. “Maybe he was flattered and thought you were cute.”

 

John can’t help it. He grins back. “Thanks,” he says.

 

“You can pick up your coffee at the end,” James replies, nodding to the other end of the counter a few feet away.

 

John heads over and pretends not to notice James following. His mind races, trying to figure out a good way to ask for that number. In all his ruminations since the day before, he’s never gotten this far. He loses sight of Blue Eyes behind the enormous silver coffee grinding machine and panics for a second, wondering if he’s missed his chance. But James _had_ returned John’s abysmal flirting. He wouldn’t run now, would he?

 

The vanilla frappe is ready but his simple black coffee isn’t. He still can’t see James, who is probably blocked from sight by the silver monstrosity. John takes a moment to inspect Valerie’s drink; she’d threatened his life if there aren’t sprinkles. He looks up again when his coffee is set in front of him.

 

“Have a nice day,” says the employee, grinning slyly at him.

 

John nods back but he’s distracted by the writing on the side of his cup.

 

 _Call me. James._ And a number scribbled beside a winky face.

 

John is definitely grinning like a fool. “Is this a rom-com I’m living in?” he muses and is rewarded when he hears a sputtered laugh from behind the coffee grinder.

 

A blond head pokes around the silver metal, lovely blue eyes dancing with delight. John leaves with them stuck in his head.

 

When he’s safely outside, it takes almost more than he has to stop himself from fist pumping like some teenager.

 

Dorian is leaning against Valerie’s car door, talking to her through the window. He looks up as John approaches their spot.

 

“Why do you look so happy?” Dorian asks curiously.

 

“Did you remember my sprinkles?” Valerie says, staring at the drinks.

 

John rolls his eyes at both of them. He hands Valerie her frappe.

 

“Yeah, I remembered,” he says, and turns to Dorian. “Get in the car and stop asking me useless questions.”

 

“They’re not useless if they’re relevant,” his partner counters even as he slips into the backseat.

 

John settles into the passenger side, clutching his coffee carefully and perhaps a little too possessively. Valerie’s keen eyes snap towards his hands and he knows that he’s been too obvious.

 

“Is that a phone number?” she gasps, a smirk already curling on her lips.

 

“Is this related to your depression yesterday?” Dorian asks immediately.

 

John tilts his head back against the headrest and laughs, his heart light as he thinks about a beautiful smile that he can’t wait to see again.

 

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> McCoy/Kirk is one of my OTPs for Star Trek, and it evolved into a fondness for the Karl Urban/Chris Pine pairing. I'm seriously hoping Chris Pine will guest star in Almost Human one day. I'd love to see him playing a villain but just him being in the show would be HEAVEN for me. That having been said, I'm so invested in this that I'm writing him as a character myself, keke.


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